America didn't mean to feel guilty. But he looked down at his chicken sandwich and felt that bad feeling swirl around in his stomach. He was here with his family, enjoying a meal, when his brother was trapped in some abandoned factory, being mercilessly tortured at the hands of the Shadow.

He pushed the wrapping that his portion of the food was on away from him, feeling his appetite slip away.

"You a'ight dad?" New York looked up at him from his seat at the table.

"Well." America sighed. "I'm not hungry anymore. We've nearly pinpointed Dixie's location. Everyone is fed and alive. I should be doing better, shouldn't I?"

The state shrugged, then winced, then let out a string of hacking coughs.

America gently patted the state's back. The county was a bit surprised when he didn't flinch away.

"'M fine, 'm fine." New York wheezed. He took a sip from his water.

"You sure?"

The state nodded.

America gave him a sad smile. "The boroughs again?"

New York coughed again. "Yeah. Brooklyn and Staten."

"You need rest just in case they decide they wanna part ways."

"They know I'm weak. They're at least trying to get along." New York took another sip of his water. "And I could handle it."

America decided to let it go. New York's boroughs have always seemed to cause trouble for the state. They had a tendency to split apart into six whole separate beings- there was the Bronx, Manhattan, Brooklyn, Queens, Staten Island, and another one whose name no one could remember because he represented the other parts of New York that weren't the boroughs.

"You're gonna have to eat to face whatever this thing is." New York sat back in his chair. "And go save stupid Dixie."

America smiled a bit. New York had always been snarky and honest and arrogant. He gets that from me probably.

"I don't even know how to fight this guy." America ran a hand threw his hair.

"Well it should be corporal, right?" New York asked. "With Dixie's blood and all."

"Well yeah... But I don't know how to kill it. Or wound it."

New York sat back up. "Let us come with you."

"Sorry." America winced. "This is something I need to resolve by myself. I've let myself get comfortable. I'm plenty strong, sure. But I haven't seen action in ages."

New York rolled his eyes.

America looked at his sandwich again. New York was right. If he was going to be at his full strength, he needed food. And sleep. But he had already had sleep. He should be good for a couple days.

"I'm going tonight." America cleared his throat. "We can't risk him moving. And we've narrowed down the location."

"Okay." New York rubbed his neck. "Want me to get the others?"

America thought for a second. "Yeah."

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"No parties tonight while I'm gone." America pushed his favorite pistol into the dufflebag. "And no one over. Especially not the Mexican states. Got that Ari?"

"Hey," Ari snorted, "it wasn't my idea to toilet paper Germany's house."

America smiled. "Also no sugar Florida. Or alcohol. And make sure the territories get to bed on time, no waiting up for me. No running with sharp objects."

Florida rolled his eyes. "Its just like when your going to one of those old UN meetings or something."

"I'm serious." America gave Florida a glare.

"Yeah just like old times." Texas joked. "But we'll keep everyone safe. And not on fire. Ari."

"It WASN'T my FAULT."

America felt the corners of his mouth turn up. He opened his arms. "Alright you crazies. Group hug."

They all gathered around and gave America a big squeeze.

"Why you packing up now?" Hawaii asked. "You're not leaving for a little while."

"Just in case I forget something." America laid more amo in the bag gently. "And I just wanna stretch and go."

"You know what you need Dad?" Florida asked, A devilish smirk on his face. "You need aN EIGHTIES TRAINING MONTAGE!"

America sighed and face palmed as the states exploded, shrieking at the top of their lungs with joy.

"ALEXA PLAY SEPARATE WAYS BY JOURNEY!" Florida screamed.

"Guys-" America tried, rubbing away his headache.

"HERE WE STAND!"

"WORLDS APART-"

"HEARTS BROKEN IN-"

"TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

America looked up from his hands at his screaming children. Even New York had joined in. He couldn't help but smile. He did love his crazy family. But right now one member of his crazy family needed rescuing.

He snuck up the stairs, through the hall, feeling the music pound from beneath him. Florida was right- he needed to get in the mood. America pushed open the door to the training room, filled with the suns rays.

He pulled off his shirt and sat cross legged on the floor. He breathed in, and out.

People always assumed he rushed into battle unprepared. That he had always fought with his only his strength and sheer luck in his side- which was partly true. But believing in yourself and trusting fate only took you so far.

He sat there, breathing, feeling his every perfection and imperfection. When America broke the chains of Britain, and found no one would help him but France, he had to rely on his strength. He had to learn how to trust himself. His instincts.

America had lost trust in himself. He was had been getting it back slowly over the past couple of years. But he needed to trust himself now.

By the time he opened his eyes the sun was low, almost scraping the horizon.

So know it was time for the eighties montage, except instead of training and punching stuff it was getting gear. America pulled on his most flexible set of cargo pants, his dark brown holster, broken in combat boots, second favorite shirt, and last but not least, his favorite pair of sunglasses.

Yeah. He looked good.

America looked at himself in the mirror, seeing the outline of his cracked chest in his shirt. He pulled out his handgun and cocked it with a loud snapping sound.

Downstairs a few states were lounging on the couch.

"Looking good Dad." Oregon encouraged.

"Duffle bag. And thanks." Florida tossed America the bag he had asked for.

"Does this really feel like a final battle of sorts?" Texas asked. "Because it just feels like you're going on another business trip."

"No it doesn't really." America admitted. "But that's good. Next time you see me I'll be dragging Dixie across the porch." They all laughed at that.

So America pushed open the door and started down the steps of the porch.